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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305227">yet another teen movie</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishngay/pseuds/britishngay'>britishngay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Heathers (1988), Heathers: The Musical - Murphy &amp; O'Keefe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Recreational Drug Use, Smut, a tiny bit of - Freeform, and yeah, but its british, fun fact i almost tagged the couples wrong bc im so used to only writing chansaw, thats it, they're teenagers alright</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:47:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,105</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27305227</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/britishngay/pseuds/britishngay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Heather has a habit of showing up at your house and only texting you when she's right outside.</p><p>(Or I finally write a friends to lovers fic instead of enemies to lovers)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Heather Chandler/Veronica Sawyer, Heather Duke/Veronica Sawyer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay so this entire thing literally came from me listening to one (1) pale waves song on holiday, then I made a playlist and it all grew from there, so each chapter has like a song linked to it which I recommend listening too with.</p><p>This chapter's song is '400 Lux' by Lorde :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Heather has a habit of showing up at your house and only texting you when she's right outside.<br/><br/>No really, once you were in the shower and was scared shitless because Heather climbed through your window and started napping on your bed.</p><p>"You've really gotta give a girl a warning." You say, pulling down the hoodie you threw on so you don't open the door in gym shorts and a sports bra. Which you know Heather wouldn’t mind, but it’s the principal of the matter. You’ve been trying to work out, <em>trying, </em>being the important word there, you’re an asthmatic smoker who hasn’t done P.E in five years, so you are attempting, and it’s going poorly.<br/><br/>"Yeah, but this is so much more fun isn't it?" She strides past you, tanned from Spain and smelling like her coconut shampoo that you steal whenever you stay over at hers.</p><p>"You and I have a differing interpretation of 'fun'." She's wearing the huge jacket that she found at one of the charity shops that litter the high road, it's camo and bunches around the sleeves but you know it's her favourite. You missed her so much, two weeks has never felt so long in your life, but she’s here now, and you’re ready for the verbal ribbing you’re most likely to receive from her any time of day. <br/><br/>"That's because you have an anxiety attack whenever you're two minutes late for something."</p><p>"Firstly, I take offence to that.” Heather sticks out her tongue at you. “And secondly, unless it was Bio."</p><p>"Yeah, Bio was another breed of irritating." You lean against the bannister, watching her as she takes her sweet time taking off her DMs then giving you a quick hug before you head to your kitchen.<br/><br/>"At least we had a good table."</p><p>Those were the days, Heather, JD and Betty all crowded around a table, not paying attention to poor Mr. Payton at the front of the class. You were lucky you even got a C with the little you payed attention in class.</p><p>"Yeah, still glad that my GCSE's are done and I never have to do anything to do with science ever again."</p><p>"One of your A levels is psychology." She points out, opening your fridge and stealing one of your largest orange juice. Another thing, if  she warned you about her arrival you would be able to stock up on orange juice, because Heather almost always finishes a carton whenever she’s over.</p><p>"That's a social science."</p><p>"That's a weak point and you know it."</p><p>"Whatever."</p><p>"I have presents for you."</p><p>"If you say it's your presence then I can't be held accountable for murder."</p><p>"I'm choosing to ignore that."</p><p>She plunges her hands into her, frankly massive, jacket, going through a couple of pockets before bringing out two packages. One in a vacuum sealed purple packet, you recognise what <em>that</em> is; the other is a small thing, wrapped in the paper that you get on holidays where you buy naff fridge magnets.<br/><br/>"Was the first thing you did when you got back pick up?"<br/><br/>"No, the first thing I did was come here, Adam was simply on the way." She says with a cheeky grin, one that you’re proud to say only seems to crop up whenever she’s around you.</p><p>She shoves the purple package back into her pockets and throws the paper one at you.</p><p>"For your collection."</p><p>You furrow your brow and open it, a smile splitting your face open when you see what’s inside. A shitty lighter with a Matador and Spain written on it, you absolutely adore the cringy, shitty zippo lighters that are thrust into your eyesight whenever they can be on holiday. You guess it’s kinda weird, but it’s better than one of those bottle collections that every boy in school has in their room – most of it being Desperados and Glenn’s vodka (you know, the one that tastes like pure gasoline) – or something nerdy like a stamp collection.<br/><br/>"You're a legend."</p><p>"I know."</p><p>"Boo, you're ruining the moment."</p><p>"What moment?"</p><p>"The one you just ruined."</p><p>“Anyways, wanna smoke?” She takes the packet out of her pocket and waves it in a way that you reckon she thinks is enticing but just looks slightly manic.</p><p>“You’re so lucky my parents are away until we start school.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Oh, so you’re only using me for my empty house?”</p><p>“Totally.”</p><p>“Come on, if we’re going to smoke, we’re doing it where I can lie down.”</p><p>You trudge up the stairs, your house isn’t particularly big, but it is one of those Victorian ones which is twice as tall as it is wide and with a house connected on each side; meaning that any motives that take place have to quieten down after 11pm, lest one of your nosy neighbours calls the police. Heather complains as you get to the penultimate lot of stairs before you reach your room, she is so dramatic, but it’s welcome compared to your admittedly stoic way of living.</p><p>She immediately pushes aside some books on your desk and starts opening the packet and grinding.</p><p>“Hey watch it! That’s my Summer Work, don’t get it smelling of weed.” You take the textbooks and paper and shove them into your school bag, ready for next week.</p><p>“You’ve actually done the work?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah, dude, I don’t want to get kicked off of my course.”</p><p>She gives you everything to start rolling and you comply, sitting at your desk and rolling, feeling along, Heather watching you from over your shoulder.</p><p>“They won’t kick you off the course.”</p><p>“But what if they do. Besides, I know full well you’ve done your Chem work.”</p><p>“Hey Chem is harder than History.”</p><p>“History is bloody hard, we have so much fuckin content – Jesus, how much did you buy?”</p><p>“Adam owed me some extra.”</p><p>“So we’re not even mixing it?”</p><p>“Nope.” She makes a popping sound on the ‘p’ and you smile, god, you’ve missed her. You end up rolling three zoots and smoking two, lying in your smoky room. August is fucking hot this year, most nights you can barely get to sleep from the way the sun sets on your side, the London summers are also pretty fucking gross, sticky and hot and uncomfortable. Your room is almost stifling, you’ve take off your jumper, Heather shedding her jacket as you both lie, a stream of sweat sticking to the both of you. It’s at times like these where you reckon it would be pretty cool to own some of those LED lights that make your room different colours, but you’ve going to be leaving soon, you don’t think it’s entirely worth it, plus you like the homely nature of your room, the yellow fairy lights wrapped around your bed frame, the candles that litter everywhere.</p><p>“Let’s put some music on.” Heather suddenly says and you trudge over to your CD collection, you’re aware that Spotify could be better but you have an addiction to the hard copies, they fill at least three of those long IKEA shelf things that cost ten quid and take up virtually no space.</p><p>"What do you want?"</p><p>"I dunno."</p><p>"Portishead?"</p><p>"Too vibey."</p><p>"The Who?"</p><p>"Too dad rocky."</p><p>"My Chemical Romance?"</p><p>"Seriously?"</p><p>"Okay I'm choosing Lorde and that’s it."</p><p>"Hm. It'll do."</p><p>"Ass."</p><p>"Yeah but I'm your ass."</p><p>"As you keep reminding me."</p><p>"Your player's busted anyway."</p><p>"Let Jemima be." The nickname you gave for the player when you wasted after coming back from a night out slips through your lips.</p><p>This must be from a new dealer with the way your lips are lose and your limbs feel all light.</p><p>"You named your CD player?" A small smile on her face grows into the shit-eating grin that you're so familiar with.</p><p>"No?"</p><p>"You're a dork."</p><p>"So are you, nerd."</p><p>You give it a couple more hits, pressing especially loud on the eject button.</p><p>"Aha!"</p><p>The synth starts floating through your room and you fall on your bed, lying face first by the pillows. You’ve missed her so much, since she’s been on holiday you’ve seen Martha a few times and gone to Betty’s for a couple of motives that would have been better if she were there, but still wildly fun – going home with three lighters that weren’t yours and a free bottle of prosecco was a particular highlight of yours. You both say nothing for a while, comfortable enough with each other that you can just sit in silence, listening to Lorde perfectly describe the teenage experience.</p><p>"Can-"</p><p>"Shhh." You interrupt, letting yourself really relax.<br/><br/>"V-"</p><p>"What did I say?"</p><p>She lets it go until you're almost halfway through the song and you feel your phone vibrate. It’s Heather calling, you pick up while staring at her right in the eyes.</p><p>"We're in the same room."</p><p>"You told me to shut up."</p><p>"I told you to 'shh' there's a difference."</p><p>"Oh my god. Wanna ride a shopping cart around the Sainsbury's down the high road?"</p><p>"We just smoked, like, two grams."</p><p>"Exactly."</p><p>--</p><p>As it always is at 8pm on a Tuesday, in the middle of August, the Sainsbury’s car park is almost completely empty as you push Heather around it.</p><p>She’s easy to push around in the carts, her legs tucked underneath her, both of you shouting as loud as you can without the police getting called, the wind pushing through your hair.</p><p>God she looks hot with wind-blown hair and laughing like an idiot because you almost tripped over the pavement.</p><p>You mean that in the most friends way possible, totally, friends way, nothing else, you have eyes, Heather is attractive and has always been, it’s just been a thing.</p><p>Anyways.</p><p>As you said before, you’re an asthmatic smoker and, as light as Heather it, you get out of breath ridiculously easily compared how long she threw you about the car park, laughing as she does so, mainly at you for being scared every two seconds that you were going to capsize.</p><p>You end up sitting on the wall entering the car park, Heather leaning against you, wearing your jacket because of a slight wind that’s picked up. All your mind drifts to is school. You’d think that finally being able to dress how you want and being able to see Martha every day for the first time in years, you’d finally not be nervously excited to go back.</p><p>But you are, god, you really are.</p><p>You’re so excited to do subject you actually, properly like, and you absolutely cannot wait to see everyone again – especially Martha, since she’s joining Westerberg this year. Plus, this might actually be the year you talk to Heather Chandler beyond asking if there’s homework due.</p><p>"Do you think Heather Chandler will notice me this year?" Heather takes her head off your shoulder.</p><p>"Do you want me to be honest?"</p><p>Okay, you already know the answer before it leaves her mouth.<br/><br/>"Yeah."<br/><br/>"Nope."</p><p>"Ughhh"<br/><br/>"She's dating that Neanderthal."</p><p>"Ram isn't that bad."</p><p>She gives you a look, the one with the raised eyebrow and disbelieving smirk. You take out your crumpled packet of whatever is cheapest at the corner shop, offering one to Heather, she takes one gratefully. You light yours with a shitty lighter that’s almost finished and she ends up having to light hers against yours instead of using your shitty lighter.<br/><br/>"Okay he kinda sucks, but he did defend me that one time against Courtney."<br/><br/>She whacks you on the shoulder.<br/><br/>"Ow, Jesus Heather, what the fuck?"<br/><br/>"We do not speak of Courtney."</p><p>“Dramatic-ass bitch, do you wanna call Betty or should I?”</p><p>“I’m out of credit.”</p><p>“When will you get a new phone?”</p><p>“I like it okay.”</p><p>“You are truly ridiculous, with that little thing you have to delete texts for space, it’s like you’re in Skins.”</p><p>“That’s a compliment.</p><p>“You dress like you’re in skins too.”</p><p>“Why am I friends with you?”</p><p>“My ever vacant house.”</p><p>“Ah good point. Call Betty.”</p><p>“Alright I’m on it, Jesus.”</p><p>Betty picks up after a few rings.</p><p>
  <em>“Yo yo V.”</em>
</p><p>“Hey, you wanna hang out? Me and Heather are in Sainsbury’s.”</p><p>
  <em>“Can’t, me and JD are having a Just Dance off and it’s tight.”</em>
</p><p>“Can we get in on that action?”</p><p>
  <em>“Oh hell yeah, I wanna see you doing Rasputin again.”</em>
</p><p>“Alright, we’ll be there in ten – do you want a drink or anything?”</p><p>
  <em>“JD, we need anything? Cool, we’re low on rum, if you wanna grab some.”</em>
</p><p>“Willl do, see ya.”</p><p>
  <em>“Bye.”</em>
</p><p>“So we going to Betty’s?”</p><p>“Yeah, Just Dance competition.”</p><p>“Awesome, can’t wait to smoke your asses.”</p><p>“Yeah right, you? Please.” She rolls her eyes.</p><p>“What we gettin?”</p><p>“Captain Morgan.”</p><p>“Wilk’s shop?”</p><p>“Aight.”</p><p>Even though it’s technically illegal to buy anything until your birthday in November, Heather has a way of looking at least nineteen, while you look a bit like a gangly fifteen year old in the worst taste in fashion that people have ever seen, but in your defence, you’re not straight, so your fashion has a right to be absolutely awful. So, if you are illegally buying alcohol underage Heather is the one to do it, while you ait outside.</p><p>Ten minutes and fifteen quid later, you rock up to Betty’s house, while your parents aren’t home in the Summer, Betty’s stay there the entire time, they’re just the most relaxed parents in the world, you enter the house with the key that Betty gave you last year.</p><p>“Hey, Mrs Finn and Mrs Finn.” You say to Betty’s Mums, as they pause MasterChef and smile at you and Heather.</p><p>“When will you call us by our names?” Miranda says, getting up to hug both of you, she’s in her favourite dressing gown, and manages to hug you without spilling a drop of wine from her glass, her smile is soft and kind. She’s almost like a second Mother to you, not that your parents aren’t good, Miranda is just like that with all of Betty’s friends.</p><p>“Never.”</p><p>“Ahh, Heather Duke, we haven’t seen you all Summer, how are you doing?” Erin, Betty’s other Mum, asks through a mouth of Maltesers and never leaving the sofa.</p><p>“Doing good, just got back from Spain.”</p><p>“Oh lovely, go hang out with Betty, we don’t want to hold you up.”</p><p>“Please don’t be too loud coming back through the house.” Erin says, eyeing you from that one time that you managed to bump into every bit of furniture and swore profusely and louder every time you would hit something. It’s safe to say that Erin came downstairs, opened the door and called an Uber for you. You blush in embarrassment, apologise quickly and head out to their garden.</p><p>Betty lives in the shed at the back of their garden, it’s perfect, you can smoke, be loud, get ridiculously drunk without her Mums caring or even finding out. As you get closer you can hear Betty’s laugh, the cackle that it is.</p><p>You end up beating JD, but losing to Betty and almost having an asthma attack halfway through because you’re a monumental dumbass. Heather doesn’t take part, but does watch and film as you make fools out of yourselves. You and Betty go off, using your entire body, while JD just does the movements with the one hand with the Wii remote in, sipping his slushie in the other hand. It’s surprising that he does so well, but he’s one of those people who is just averagely good at everything, it’s kinda rude to be honest. Betty makes you take victory shots, well, makes sounds dramatic, it takes very little convincing to get you to drink, three for JD, two for you and one of Betty, Heather chooses not to drink because of that one time that she mixed weed and alcohol together and ended up staying in bed for two days; yeah, that wasn’t a fun time, especially with parents like Heather’s.</p><p>Once you’ve all calmed down, the group decides it’s time to talk about going back to school next week, complete with JD rolling his eyes at every interval and the surprising revelation that Betty has done all of the Summer Work.</p><p>“Wait so what are you guys doing?” JD asks.</p><p>“Psychology, English and History – only the best subjects.”</p><p>“Piss off, humanities aren’t that cool.”</p><p>“Dude, you’re doing, Chemistry, Economics and English – they’re just shitty sciences and English.”</p><p>“I take great offence to that.”</p><p>“As you should. What are you doing JD?”</p><p>“Maths, Product Design, Philosophy. Betty?”</p><p>“None of your business.”</p><p>“Weirdo.”</p><p>“Just kidding, Music, Politics, Biology and Maths.”</p><p>“Jesus dude, you’re going to have no free time.</p><p>“Oh I know.”</p><p>"You know what I can’t believe, I can't believe you're going into sixth form with a mullet." Duke says, drinking some Coke.</p><p>"Hey! What's wrong with my mullet?" You defend yourself, you think you look pretty good.</p><p>"Well I like it."</p><p>"You have a death-hawk Betty, of course you do."</p><p>"It's pretty good, Duke, I don't know what your beef with it is."</p><p>"Whatever, once I get a middle part it's over for you fuckers."</p><p>"You can do one now." JD points out, slurping his vodka slushie.</p><p>"And since when did we graduate from bitches to fuckers?"</p><p>"Since you get in my last nerves more and more often."</p><p>“Duke, you’re all nerves.”</p><p>“Oi! Take that back Betty Finn.”</p><p>“Never.”</p><p>They start bickering, you laugh slightly and turn to JD.</p><p>“What time you gonna head?”</p><p>“I’m stayin over.”</p><p>“Big Boy Bud busting your ass again.”</p><p>“Yeah, I’m staying here for a while.”</p><p>“If you need a place, we have a spare bedroom at mine and we all know that Mum n Dad like you more than me, bumlick.”</p><p>“I did the dishes, one time.”</p><p>“Yeah and now they ask about how you are more than when they ask about my day.”</p><p>“As they should. And thanks Ronnie.”</p><p>“No problem, but never call me that again.”</p><p>“You got it Ronnie.”</p><p>“You suck.”</p><p>He sticks out his tongue at you, it’s blue from the slushie.</p><p>“We better head off, it’s past midnight and I have work to do tomorrow, well today.”</p><p>You hug everyone goodbye.</p><p>“See you guys next week.”</p><p>“Yeah, bye fuckers.”</p><p>“Love you too Heather.” Betty shouts back, a middle finger up and a smile on her face.</p><p>“Get home safe, and text us when you get to Veronica’s.” JD says to the both of you.</p><p>“Who said you’re coming over to mine?”</p><p>“Please, when don’t I?”</p><p>“I hate that you’re right.”</p><p>“I always am.”</p><p>“Piss off.”</p><p>You shove her lightly and she stumbles and you know that you’re ready for next week and for sixth form to really start.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Crushes and Dances</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The song this time round is 'My Obsession' by Pale Waves, an absolute banger.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>September.</p><p>You wake up at 7am.</p><p>The earliest you’ve woken up in two months.</p><p>Unless you count that time you were awake for 17 hours then fell asleep at like 3pm and woke up 6:30, but you don’t think that count, not really anyways.</p><p>Thankfully, or not because global warming is one of <em>those </em>fears that looms in your mind like 90% of the time, the weather is remaining mainly warm so you don’t feel like there’s ice in your joints as you get out of bed.</p><p>You shower, feeling yourself defrost slightly, your joints clicking as you lift your arms to wash your hair, it’s slightly worrying actually; how loudly and how much your joints click every morning, and it’s not even as cold as it normally gets.</p><p>You take an embarrassingly long time choosing your clothes, normally you’d just put on jeans and a t-shirt, but you want to look good. So it’s the low-waisted baggy jeans and baggy blue striped t-shirt and a navy corduroy shirt that you want to wear for as long as possible before Heather steals it – because Heather <em>will </em>steal it.</p><p>The smell of coffee and steam is the welcome remembrance of school time. Your Dad multitasks over every breakfast, reading the paper, eating his cereal and steaming his shirt for the day, he always insists that it gets his shirts the cleanest – even if it stinks up the kitchen.</p><p>“Morning Ronnie.” Mum kisses you on the head as you stare at the cereal in the cupboard, before zeroing in on some Coco Pops.</p><p>“Mornin’.” You grunt back, she rolls her eyes affectionately as she sits down and starts spreading some Marmalade on her toast. God, that’s gross, she likes the thick Marmalade with the bits in, it’s just weird and it has the same energy as juice with bits in.</p><p>“So, are you excited for your first day?”</p><p>“Yeah, but only for Psychology.”</p><p>“Come on, with that attitude, you won’t enjoy anything.”</p><p>“Okay, I’ll try to enjoy everything else.”</p><p>You glance at the clock, crap.</p><p>“Shit, I’m gonna be late.”</p><p>“Language.”</p><p>You give your parents a kiss on head then rush to get your shoes on.</p><p>“Invite Martha over for dinner one night, it’s been so long.” Mum shouts after you, your Dad makes a noise of agreement as he steams his shirt.</p><p>Nerves and excitement churns in your stomach as you leave.</p><p>--</p><p>The first day is overwhelming for new transfers.</p><p>You're lucky that you've been stuck at Westerberg for going on six years now so you're used to pushing year sevens and shouting over everyone yelling at each other.</p><p>Martha, not so much.</p><p>Your best friend who left Westerberg in year 8 because girls are real mean and no matter how hard you tried, they don't stop, they only get meaner when there's someone to defend them. Thankfully, Courtney left as soon as she could, barely even coming to results day and the others have mellowed out a lot since the days of calling Martha 'Dumptruck' and making fun of virtually anything about her that wasn’t remotely ‘like them’, it was ridiculous and the amount of times that you were on the verge of detention for insulting them back was a lot. As much as you missed her, moving from Westerberg was probably right for her.</p><p>“You good?”</p><p>“Yeah, it’s just so loud in here.”</p><p>“Do you wanna head to the playground for a bit?”</p><p>“No, I’ll be fine.”</p><p>“It’ll clear out in around 10.” You squeeze her hand slightly and she smiles at you.</p><p>She looks dazed by the constant noise that Westerberg brings on the first day, you barely get to speak to her, the way that you're saying hi to everyone, hugging those who you're proper friends with, high fiving those who you sat next to last year.</p><p>You finally find the table where Heather and the others are sitting, Martha joining you while you lean against the wall. Betty and Heather do some complex hand shake that you’ve never seen before and, honestly, you’re scared to see it again. You give her a quick side hug and Martha gives her a wave.</p><p>“I swear I’m not that popular, why am I saying hello to half the school?” Duke says, eyebrows furrowed and taking a drink of iced coffee from the Tesco down the road. You really don’t how she can drink the stuff, coffee just gives you a headache and makes your heart go bloody crazy</p><p>And not in the good way that good ol’ fashioned nicotine does it.</p><p>“Aw, she’s complaining about having too many friends.” JD pouts.</p><p>“Yeah, when’s the paparazzi going to show up?” Betty chimes in, Martha watches this all happen with a delighted grin on her face.</p><p>“Assholes the lot of you, once I’m rich and famous, you’re going to be sorry.”</p><p>“You’re halfway there anyways, Mrs Gucci belt.”</p><p>“And you said that you’d buy me a house once you was famous.” You say, she’s about to open her mouth in a retort when she’s interrupted by someone shouting her name.</p><p>“Heya Duke?" Some dude who was in registration with Heather last year shouts to her across the common room. It’s always ‘Duke’, the only person who actually get called Heather is Heather Chandler, even though her name goes through cycles, sometimes it’s just Chandler, sometimes it’s just Heather or Heather C or ‘that blonde one that Ram Sweeney is dating and everyone is halfway in love with.’</p><p>"What?" She yells back, everyone on the table winces, while the guy struggle to get himself over the noise, she can easily be heard, fun for him, awful for everyone on the table.</p><p>"You comin Harry's motive?" He yells above the noise, a couple of people around him looking at him with dirty looks but he just smiles anyway.</p><p>She turns to you.</p><p>"We goin Harry's?"</p><p>"Depends, who's gonna be there?" You shrug, you don’t mind Harry. Sure, he’s got a bit of a narcissistic streak and thinks he’s got the biggest brain since Einstein, but he’s not the absolute worst, just don’t get him talking about Physics or Engineering or anything along that vein. Plus his house is massive, even if his parents voted for Brexit.</p><p>"Who's there?" She shouts back at him.</p><p>"Everyone dude!'</p><p>"Yeah right." You say under your breath. You see him make his way through the crowd of people looking for their form room and end up right beside Heather, poking her in the side, making her let out a squeal.</p><p>"You are such a dickhead Farin."</p><p>You knew you knew his name from somewhere, you were his experiment partner in year nine Biology, he complained about the smell of kidneys the entire time you had to dissect one. To be fair, you were lucky that you had a cold and couldn’t smell anything for two weeks.</p><p>"I know I know. But for real, you heading to Harry's?"</p><p>"What do you mean by 'everyone's there?'" You ask.</p><p>"I mean everyone Veronica."</p><p>"So he means Thing 1, Thing 2 and Heather C." You say to Duke.</p><p>"Yeah and that means half the years coming, so, you in?"</p><p>You look at each other and have a silent conversation.</p><p>“Yeah, sure, is it bring your own?”</p><p>“When isn’t it?” He fist-bumps both of you before heading off to sit with a few of his friends.</p><p>“So we’re going to Harry’s party next weekend?” Betty asks.</p><p>“Yup. Veronica?”</p><p>“Yes you can stay at mine.” You answer before she even has to asks.</p><p>“Thank you.” You act grumpy but she kisses your cheek in a jokey way and a grin makes its way onto your face, being around her really does make you day – it always has.</p><p>“Who’s in what registration? Me and Martha got Ealing.” You ask, leaning back in your chair, the common room begins to thin out as people find their groups and head to their respective registration classes. You know full well, you’re gonna be stuck in there for two hours while they go over the same school rules that you have, vaguely, been following for going on six years.</p><p>“Lucky you, I got bloody Barking.” Heather sneers into her coffee.</p><p>“Oh no, Barking is always in the Science wing that stinks like that experiment with the metal clippings.”</p><p>“Yeah, I can’t wait to get through twice as much perfume as normal. What about you guys?”</p><p>“The wonder twins are in Kingston.” JD brags, your English teacher is the form tutor for Kingston and her classroom is great, sofa’s and random computers and all. Betty and him high five with wide smiles on their faces.</p><p>“Of course you lot do, you lived up Matthews’ ass at GCSE.”</p><p>“Yeah because female English teachers replace my lack of a Mother in my life and remind Betty of all of her Mother figures in her life.” JD says, Betty nods her head in agreement.</p><p>“Now,” he claps his hands together, “who’s got what free periods when, we need to organize ourselves lads.”</p><p>Everyone starts talking over each other but the bell quickly cuts them all off, you, Heather and Martha are already up by the time the bell stops ringing, ready to head off the registration while Betty and JD take their sweet time – neither of then too bothered with truancy detentions that Westerberg is all too happy to hand out.</p><p>You all head out in different directions, Heather reluctantly walking toward the Science classrooms while you trudge up to History. Martha seems excited to be in a mixed school again, the all-girls school she went to after she left Wester was the type to make you kneel in the playground so they could measure your skirt length. And she seems more relaxed the longer she’s in the building. God, you’ve missed her over the years, she holds a special spot in your heart.</p><p>The two hours of registration go slowly, you and Martha ending up playing games on your phone and hangman with each other, where she loves to pull out words like ‘Lynx’ and ‘antidisestablishmentarianism’ and you spend a lot of the time rolling your eyes as you lose yet another game while she smiles at you, innocently but slightly smug.</p><p>Finally you head to your first lesson, English, with Ms Matthews. You’re happy that you’ve done the reading and all of the Summer work, the number of paperbacks you have in your back is going to give you back problems you <em>swear. </em>The walk across the playground is short but sweet, your lanyard clicking against the buttons on your overshirt, the new year sevens scuttling around, worried about being late to their class.</p><p>You can’t believe how much you’ve actually missed this.</p><p>You walk into Matthews’ class with the full intent to sit where you sat in year 10, second from the back all the way by the window but that thought is quickly stopped by the fact that there’s a seating plan on her whiteboard.</p><p>You scan the board for your name, hoping that you’re next to someone you vaguely know.</p><p>Oh no.</p><p>Oh <em>no.</em></p><p>There, right in the middle of the class, you will sit next to Heather Chandler.</p><p>Shit.</p><p>You’re not going to get anything done.</p><p>--</p><p>“Did you know my philosophy exam is three hours long?” JD asks, dropping his Maths textbooks on the table, startling you from where you are re-reading some chapters of Frankenstein. The woman in charge of the phones in the common room, Rosalind, shushes him, he puts his hands up in mock defence and sits down. Thankfully, your most of your free periods align with Heather and JD, so you can pretend to be doing work while you relax with them most of the time. Is it productive? No. Is it fun? Yes.</p><p>You’re a week in and it’s already kicking your ass. You’d think the teachers would give you a rest after doing twelve exams in four weeks a few months back but no, they’re going full throttle for your exams in two years’ time. At least Psych and English are manageable, every History lesson feels like they’re shoving context and content down your throat, which you could keep up with if it was by itself but with everything else; there’s just too much content in your brain all the time, it feels like some of it should be slipping out your ear.</p><p>Actually English is barely manageable, with you having to work twice as hard when you get home to remember what you learnt because you were too busy trying not the stare at Heather Chandler as she sits right next to you.</p><p>“Yeah you’re fucked.” Heather answers, quieter than JD, lest Ros get angry at them and kick them out, that means that they would have to find an empty classroom or head to the music rooms and act like they were working while JD plays piano for an hour.</p><p>“Ain’t you doing sciences? They suck.”</p><p>“That’s just personal preference.”</p><p>You watch them go back and forth, it’s far more entertaining then re-reading a couple of chapters for a timed essay you have next period. It’s an open book exam so you’re not quite sure why you’re having to memorise quotes but you do it anyway, not in the mood to make an enemy of yet another teacher. You don’t make it a habit but Fleming never did take to kindly to people correcting her.</p><p>“And you’ll never guess who’s in my Philosophy class.”</p><p>“Who?”</p><p>“Chandler. Heather Chandler.”</p><p>“Why is that surprising?”</p><p>Now you lean forward, your crush on Heather Chandler is pitifully obvious, you’re pretty sure that even she knows at this point – especially given how much your friends like to give you shit for it.</p><p>“Because she’s Heather Chandler, I never thought I’d get to be this close to her without my face melting off.”</p><p>“I can’t tell if that’s an insult or a compliment.”</p><p>“That’s the best kind.”</p><p>“Of what?”</p><p>“That’s for me to know and you to analyse for the rest of the day.”</p><p>“Wow, it’s been half a minute of us talking about Chandler and Veronica hasn’t said anything.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know she’s doing English. And she’s not in <em>my </em>class, so how is she in English.”</p><p>“I haven’t had a lesson yet.” You say, shifting in your seat.</p><p>“You’re a shit liar, you’re doing English homework <em>and </em>our lessons are at the same time.”</p><p>“Fine, I sit next to her.”</p><p><em>“What!” </em>JD leans back, almost yelling.</p><p>“Shhh, I don’t wanna work in the library.” Duke says, pulling JD back to the table.</p><p>“Yeah like you were doing any work.”</p><p>“Can we get back to the topic at hand? Veronica sitting with her one true love and she hasn’t said a word. How many lessons has it been Heather?”</p><p>“Three, one of which was a double.”</p><p>“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you guys stuff if you stop tag teaming me, Jesus.”</p><p>They lean back, smug about their ability to rile you up. Truth be told you’d been so stressed about getting all the reading done in time and getting used to the changes that you haven’t really been focusing on Heather.</p><p>Okay that’s a lie.</p><p>You can’t concentrate on anything and you haven’t told the others because they’d tease you about it and because they’d ask you about why you haven’t flirted and the answer is that she has a boyfriend and you are complete and utter shit at flirting with pretty girls, especially pretty girls you’ve been in love with forever.</p><p>And that fact that you’re a mess and she’s, well, not.</p><p>“I made a complete ass out of myself.”</p><p>“That’s not rare.” JD laughs, the Cheshire cat grin of his in full force.</p><p>“Hey!” Heather whacks him on the back of the head and gestures to you, “continue.”</p><p>“I tripped over a table leg and dropped all my shit and she gave me all of my stuff and smiled at me and I said ‘thanks’ and then we sat in silence for the hour.”</p><p>“You didn’t even talk to her about random stuff?”</p><p>“You’re the one who said that she probably wouldn’t notice me this year.”</p><p>“Clearly love is in the air.”</p><p>They laugh for a second.</p><p>“Look. Ronnie, you’re awesome, just be yourself-“</p><p>“That’s garbage advice.”</p><p>“Don’t interrupt me while I’m complimenting you, I might stop doing it. Anyways, be yourself, it’s obvious when you’re trying to lie about yourself.”</p><p>“What, JD, said, being cool is overrated.”</p><p>“You guys are nerds.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>--<br/>
<br/>
Harry’s house is one of those detached ones which is wider than tall and has clearly been renovated like forty times.</p><p>Thankfully, it’s only a bus ride away and Heather can meet you there and the night bus goes to the same stop – if you are to stay that late, it depends on how drunk you and Heather plan on getting and how annoying everyone else is.</p><p>Martha ends up staying at home and JD and Betty joined the party almost an hour ago, you decided to be fashionably late because of how cool you are for doing homework on a Saturday evening.</p><p>You meet Heather and you both take a shot of Glenn’s vodka – you know, it tastes like petrol that’s on fire but it’s cheap and gets you drunk. You knock on the door, throat burning, stomach swirling, someone who isn’t Harry opens the door but they recognise Heather from around school and let you in. The party is <em>loud, </em>Harry’s got those fancy LED lights around the place, kids are <em>everywhere. </em>There’s a flimsy sign on the stairs that says no entry but you’re at least 50% sure that there’s already people upstairs, rolling joints, fucking, puking, whatever teenagers do at a party that isn’t at their house. You take another shot in the kitchen, and in the living room, and the bathroom, until there’s barely anything left and you can’t really feel your hands and Heather is laughing a lot more than normal. You dance for it bit, sweating some alcohol out as Mr Brightside and Come on Eileen and Sweet Caroline play back to back.</p><p>You can barely feel your throat after shouting so many lyrics and the Glenn’s slipping down your throat about as well as cut glass. You talked to some dude in your Psych class who like Freud a little too much so you smiled and sarcastically told him that he has Mummy issues and walked away before you could deal with that fallout. You find out that two Betty and JD have already hotboxed Harry’s shed in the garden and danced with you and Heather; JD mainly jumping up and down and Betty going full out. They end up in the quieter section of the house – Harry’s second living toom – with a few people that you know from the parties that Betty threw over the summer, they ended up playing cards and you know that they’re not going to be leaving until they get kicked out, after beating everyone in Poker of course.</p><p>You find Heather as the music is moved from grime to greatest hits to slower, cuter songs where the couples dance in the living room, she’s leaning against the wall with a miscellaneous drink in her hand, at this point the vodka’s worn off somewhat and you stole a Heineken off someone in the kitchen.</p><p>“You good?”</p><p>“Yeah, Betty and JD?”</p><p>“They got hold of some cards.”</p><p>Heather lets out a bark of laughter.</p><p>“Ah, I feel sorry for the people playing them.”</p><p>“Yup.”</p><p>You see Heather and Ram dancing and your jaw clenches. You want that. You can imagine you and Heather, the one standing next to you, dancing like that, you can imagine her whispering something hilarious in your ear and your entire body shaking to contain your laughter. Then you think of you and Heather Chandler, dipping her into a kiss, you reckon she tastes like strawberry lip balm, the one she uses religiously. It’s the first time you noticed her tonight, she must have showed up after you and Heather arrived, god, she looks beautiful, she always does, but there’s something about her tonight that makes you want her even more. You take a drink of your stolen beer.</p><p>"I hate the slow dancing songs." Heather says, taking a sip and looking disdainfully at the rest of the couples in Harry’s living room. Her face makes your stomach light up, you can't explain how but it scares all of your jealousy away. "At least slow dance to something fast."</p><p>"Wow."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"You are so fucking quirky."</p><p>"Piss off." She smiles, nudging you with her elbow slightly, causing you to spill some of your drink down your hand, you wipe it on your jeans and crinkle your nose at the sticky feeling.</p><p>"I wanna go fast with slow songs and slow with fast songs."</p><p>“I don’t know how to reply to that.”</p><p>“You don’t know how to reply to most things.”</p><p>“Valid, but did you have to call me out like this? My heart is slowly being crushed.”</p><p>“You are so dramatic.”</p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>"Wanna smoke?" She waves the little packet in your face, you grab it, noticing the way that Heather has scrawled over any blood on the packet with a black sharpie. You inspect it.</p><p>"Blue and H? Really?"</p><p>"They're the cheapest ones."</p><p>"I know, just thought you being rich and all."</p><p>"I’m saving up for days of debauchery in University, now are you coming?”</p><p>You roll your eyes and follow her to Harry’s garden. There are little groups of people huddling together, smoking, talking, drinking, making out.</p><p>“God I can see Greene’s tongue from over here.” Heather says, lighting her cigarette then passing it to you.</p><p>“Gross, don’t remind me that tongues in kisses exist.”</p><p>“Wait how long has it been since you’ve made out with someone who isn’t spin the bottle.”</p><p>“When was the last time <em>you’ve</em> had a kiss that wasn’t spin the bottle?” You point out, watching as a couple of people play beer pong on his garden table.</p><p>“Touché.”</p><p>“Thank you, I was proud of that one.”</p><p>“So, you and Chandler.”</p><p>“Sh, people can hear.” You hit her on the shoulder, lightly, she hits your shoulder back and rolls her eyes.</p><p>“What that you have a crush on her? Half the people at this party do.”</p><p>She’s right, you hate it when she’s right.</p><p>Which is all the time.</p><p>“Still,” You grumble, taking a drag of you cigarette and washing it down with some beer.</p><p>“You’ve been in love with her since year 10.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>“That is <em>way </em>too long to have a crush on somebody, you’re either holding onto it for too long because you have feelings for someone you don’t want to, or it’s easy to like her.”</p><p>“Don’t psycho-analyse me Heather, you don’t even do psychology.”</p><p>“Yeah, but I listen to you ramble on about it.”</p><p>“She’s hot, and nice and when I look at her my stomach does shit.”</p><p>“Gross.”</p><p>“I had to hear about your crush on that guy in Biology all the way through year eleven, and that shit was graphic.”</p><p>“I know but I love the way your forehead crinkles when I’m being hypocritical.”</p><p>She flicks the spot in between your eyebrows and it sends shivers down your spine, her touches tend to do that.</p><p>“You rarely are. You’re my favourite person you know.”</p><p>She nudges your shoulder with hers.</p><p>“Yeah, you’re mine too Veronica. C’mon let’s head back.”</p><p>You flick your butt into the garden, Heather doing the same, Harry never said not the leave the butts in the garden so you hope that his parents don’t have any issues with smoking.</p><p>“And by the way, I know enough about psychology because you’re always on about it.”</p><p>“Piss off.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hope y'all enjoyed, if you want to leave a comment that's be great, but please don't feel that you have to.</p><p>My tumblr is 'its3amandiamtired', which I made at like 1:30am and I was very tired but I thought 3am had a better ring to it :):)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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